Translated by Hilary Kaplan
(bŏd’ē). n. pl. bod·ies. No-
body’s. Weight and mass
(please don’t confuse them)
attached to surfaces
of the binary code
known as masculine and feminine.
1.a. Geography of self-placement. Area with well-defined borders; dedicated space to dream of dictionaries.
1.b. Locus of focus in terror, hocus pocus of logic in damp orifices.
1.c. Carcass. Back to reality.
the same air
the same two people
2.a. Dangerous standard for the mechanics of purity; the illusion of hygiene.
2.b. Not a tree.
according to preference.
Delivery follows the rules
of genetic production.
with a penis
are a rare treat.
3.a. Unreliable in raincoats. Makeshift and often vacillating. Anything that comes in parts.
3.b. A set of mistakes and misunderstandings known as sanity; a public corporation.
The private sphere
is a nightmare, too.
4.a. A commercial establishment.
4.b. For instructions, refer to manual. And oral.
known as voice
to its definition.
5.a. Gobbledegook that won’t sweat in photos.
5.b. The biggest play about friction. Anal Tommy.
5.c. Machinery to make liquids.
5.d. Fated for lubricants.
If cut or pierced,
6.a. Exclusively for indexes and appendixes.
6.b. For mass, what’s tangible. For matter, rags.
Give it water,
make it celestial.
7. Comfortable furniture that requires maintenance. A collection or quantity, as of material or information: proof of its inflation.
On a map,
YOU ARE HERE.
In which the poet celebrates his twenty-five-year-old lover
for Jannis Birsner
have outlasted your
Congratulations on your success
in exceeding the life
of a giraffe or bat,
Around the world, penguins
conceived at the same time as you, are dying.
has not circled the sun even
since you were a fertilized egg.
who guides me along the thousand trails
to the Zone,
another winter begins to crawl,
my face in your hairless chest.
If I could,
I’d sign a contract
or the Strugatsky brothers,
for our days and future nights;
for the soundtrack,
Diamanda Galás bellows
caws and purrs, we fornicate.
the mind beneath your hair,
attached to your body, erect.
a pig, your contemporary,
the zenith of his rotund
I wonder, exhausted in sweat, if lovers,
at last united, count sheep
sleep, euphoric and pregnant.
The Poet’s Hollywood Dreams
I’d like a script
in which an Estonian army
conspires to stone
& I plato(o)nic at salvation
to the sound of the Rolling Stones.
I’d like science fiction
with Winnie-the-Pooh in coitus
& I in an act of humachine
mixegenation uterize automatons
struck with Sisyphean cramps
to the sound of Sonic Youth.
I’d like a cartoon
in which a tsunamic infection
in franchises devastates amygdalas
from Poughkeepsie to Rangoon
& I shaman develop the vaccine
to the sound of Maysa & Björk.
I’d like an epic porn
from Rob Lowe to Rock Hudson
all hunks and hulks of Hollywood
in rows in collars on all fours
& I’m mixed up in a harem to 8 ½
to the sound of “I’m a slave for U.”
I’d like a western
once again waiting for the barbarians
to invade the Occident
& I a monk copy & paste
to save Oz & Dante from oblivion
to the sound of Portishead.
Ricardo Domeneck is a poet, short fiction writer and essayist, born in Bebedouro, in the state of São Paulo, Brazil, in 1977. He has published six volumes of poetry: Carta aos anfíbios (2005), a cadela sem Logos (2007), Sons: Arranjo: Garganta (2009), Cigarros na cama (2011), Ciclo do amante substituível (2012) and Medir com as próprias mãos a febre (2015). His poems, short stories and essays have been published in magazines in Brazil and abroad, including Inimigo Rumor (Brazil), Babelsprech (Germany), Lyrikvännen (Sweden) and Samplekanon (Netherlands). His poems have been translated, included in anthologies of contemporary Brazilian poetry and published in Germany, the United States, Belgium, Spain, Slovenia, United Arab Emirates, Argentina, Sweden, Mexico and Chile. Working also with video and sound poetry, he has performed in galleries and museums such as Museo Reina Sofía (Madrid), Museum of Modern Art (Rio de Janeiro), Museo Experimental El Eco (Mexico City), Akademie der Künste (Berlin) and deSingel International Arts Campus (Antwerp), and he was among the poets and artists who prepared billboard-pieces for the Biennial of the Americas 2013, in Denver, Colorado. He has collaborated with Brazilian and German musicians such as Tetine, Markus Nikolaus (Lea Porcelain) and Uli Buder (Akia). A bilingual anthology of his poems was translated by Odile Kennel and released in Germany with the title Körper: ein Handbuch (Verlagshaus Berlin, 2013), and, in the Netherlands, with the title Het Verzamelde Lichaam (Uitgeverij Perdu, 2015), translated by Bart Vonck. His book Ciclo do amante substituível was translated into Spanish in its entirety by Aníbal Cristobo and published by Kriller71 Ediciones in 2014. Ricardo Domeneck lives and works in Berlin, Germany.
Hilary Kaplan is the translator of Rilke Shake by Angélica Freitas and Ghosts by Paloma Vidal. Her translations of Brazilian poetry and prose have been featured on BBC Radio 4 and in Granta, Modern Poetry in Translation, The White Review, and elsewhere. She speaks frequently on poetry and translation, and has received grants from the PEN Translation Fund and Itaú Cultural.